


I'm in Love with a NutJob.

by whyamIalwaysLoislane (Whyamialwaysloislane)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dexter, Alternate Universe - Federal Agents, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, BAMF Lydia Martin, Criminal Stiles Stilinski, Deputy Allison Argent, Derek and Scott are Brothers, Dexter!Stiles, FBI Profiler Stiles, Forensic Scientist Lydia Martin, M/M, Mechanic Derek, Serial Killer Stiles, dexter au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-24 04:03:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1590953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whyamialwaysloislane/pseuds/whyamIalwaysLoislane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Stiles is the Nutjob and Derek's the crazy dude in love with the Beacon Hills Butcher. </p><p>What is his life even?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Never Told You What I Do For a Living.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not even sure where this came from... But I'm going to go with it until I feel a flourish of an idea for the Next instalment of Stark N' Stilinski.
> 
> Not sure if this will be multi-chapter....
> 
> Warning for Creeper Stiles...  
> Because you know he's a serial killer, he gonna be creepy...
> 
> Completely unbeta'd... My beta is off getting a back massage... lucky sod.

Allison groaned, flopping back onto the sofa with her feet plopping into Scott's lap. He winced but began kneading his knuckles into the balls of her feet. Derek craned his neck around the door frame and smiled weakly at her. 

"Beacon Hills Butcher?" Derek asked. Allison groaned again in response. "Tea?"

"Coffee? Two Sugars, no milk." Allison called through. "Oh, Der, can I get it to go? I only have a half an hour break and I need to go consult Martin." 

"Sure thing!" Derek began, pouring the coffee into the flask, adding two sugars and fastening the lid. He placed it in front of her and blew across the top of his cup of Tea. Erica appeared, feet dragging across the floor in her bunny slippers as she yawned.

"Beacon Hills Butcher?" She licked her lips and rubbed her eyes, as she sat down.

"When is it not?" Allison sighed, taking a sip of her coffee. "Damn, Der thats good."

"You know what you need right." Erica smirked, eyes becoming more awake.

"What?" Allison said, leaning forward.

"You need a Will Graham, someone to get into he/she's heads." She stretched her arms, her fluffy wolf pajamas riding up on her stomach. Allison laughed for a few seconds before stopping dead.

"Shit." Allison exclaimed, phone out and too her ear before Scott had even noticed she had moved. "Argent. Get me New York."

"What?" Erica asked, eyebrows furrowed. 

"A Profiler!" Allison cupped the phone microphone and leant over. "Agent Stilinski, he's the best criminal Profiler in America. He's from here." She straightened up and spoke into the phone. "Hey Mahealani, It's Agent Allison Argent here from Beacon Hills. You know that favour I owe you, I'd like to cash it in." There was a muffled response and Allison laughed. "Well, you know me Danny." She laughed again. "See the thing is, I need Stilinski." There was silence, then a response. "We'll be waiting. Thanks, Mahealani, sure. Anytime." 

"Did you get Stilinski?" 

"He's coming in two weeks."

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

** Two Weeks Later. **

 

 

"Excuse me?" A voice came from the office. Derek slid out from the Porsche he was working on, wiped his hand on his overalls and headed towards the office. A tall man stood there, his skin was freckled with moles and his nose was slightly angled. The man's lips looked like they were permanently parted and his eyes were molten gold. "I was told to come here, there's a problem with my Jeep." He ran a long fingered hand through his dark hair and set his eyes back on Derek. "I don't do cars, I-I'm needed at the station and I'm new in town."

"You wouldn't happen to be Agent Stilinski, would you?" Derek asked, offering the cleaner hand.

"Okay... Mind reader..." Stiles asked suspiciously, looking at Derek's hand with the caution you would expect of a man who deals with psychopaths.

"I'm Agent Argent's brother in law, she's buzzing about your help." Derek laughed, dragging the oil caked hand through his hair. Agent Stilinski laughed and took his hand.

"That explains it, oh and call me Stiles." He said, clasping Derek's hand and shaking.

"Stiles Stilinski?" Derek quirked a eyebrow.

"I'd say my parents are sadists due to the fact my real name is ten times worse, but the 'Stiles' part is self-inflicted." Stiles laughed.

"So, you're the sadist?" Derek asked, breaking off into a chuckle. Stiles only laughed in response as they walked over to the jeep.

"What do you know about the Beacon Hills Butcher?" He started before breaking off and starting again. "Jesus, who called it the Beacon Hills Butcher, its awful." Stiles laughed.

"It started as a joke between Argent and my sister, Erica and then it stuck. Erica's a Deputy at the station." Derek popped open the hood and began inspecting.

"So how much is this around-about going to be?" Stiles asked, hands constantly moving. "Like money wise, Profiling doesn't pay that well and I'd prefer to know how much this'll set me back." 

"On the house. Ali'll pay me back some how." Derek smiled.

"Aww, man that's great." Stiles let out a long breath and walked around to inspect the car. "Do you know any good Coffee shops around here?"

"Beanz across the road." Derek smiled, "This'll take me about half an hour, wanna come back then?" 

"Sure thing. Cheers..." Stiles trailed off, and Derek realised he hadn't introduced himself. 

"Oh, Derek, Derek Hale."

"Okay, Thanks Derek." Stiles smiled, shoving his hands into his pockets and began walking out the garage.

 

 

As soon as Stiles say those crystal green eyes he knew. He was sat in the window seat of the tacky coffee shop, eyes watching Derek work. Stiles pressed the coffee mug to his lips and drank, eyes still focused on Derek. 

He knew he'd made a mistake coming back to investigate his own six year old crimes, but hey he got a kick out of dicing with death. He'd have to be careful now Derek was in the picture. Derek would be a perfect cover to stay, plus Stiles had never seen eyes that colour before. He shook his head and pulled out his notepad. He flipped it open to a random page and scribbled.

**_DEREK HALE._ **

He had a feeling his time in Beacon Hills would not be as uneventful as he previously thought.

He flipped close his note pad and slid it back into his pocket. He sipped his coffee and went back to watching Derek. 


	2. Everybody Wants To Rule The World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Wrestling with your thoughts?" Stiles voice came from beside him, he craned his neck to see him. He stood out in the pouring rain, droplets catching on his eyelashes. Derek grinned, as Stiles slipped into the garage with him.
> 
> "How come I have the honour?" Derek asked, moving to face Stiles not the rain. 
> 
> "Isn't it obvious? I came to see my favourite mechanic." Stiles grinned, shoving his hands into his pockets. 
> 
> "You have a lot of mechanics?" Derek queried, eyebrow raised. 
> 
> "Okay, you got me." Stiles deflated and flailed his arms. "Damn, boy. I had an air of sophistication going on there, the whole 'Wrestling with your thoughts' line and the dramatic rain. It was perfect." Stiles sulked, eyes watching the rain fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes... This did move fast... But it's cute!! I WANTED CUTENESS BEFORE THIS GETS SERIOUS.
> 
> Right the murder scene is patchy... But I couldn't google to find out whether a bone saw cut through clean enough as I was describing without my google history looking like I'm a mass murderer...
> 
> Un-Beta'd so un-beta'd...

** Two Weeks Later. **

 

It was raining outside the shop, bouncing off the tarmac. Derek stood in the garage door watching it. 

"Wrestling with your thoughts?" Stiles voice came from beside him, he craned his neck to see him. He stood out in the pouring rain, droplets catching on his eyelashes. Derek grinned, as Stiles slipped into the garage with him.

"How come I have the honour?" Derek asked, moving to face Stiles not the rain. 

"Isn't it obvious? I came to see my favourite mechanic." Stiles grinned, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

"You have a lot of mechanics?" Derek queried, eyebrow raised. 

"Okay, you got me." Stiles deflated and flailed his arms. "Damn, boy. I had an air of sophistication going on there, the whole 'Wrestling with your thoughts' line and the dramatic rain. It was perfect." Stiles sulked, eyes watching the rain fall.

"Perfect for what?" Derek asked, nerves bundling in his stomach. 

"I was going to ask out my favourite mechanic, but I'm afraid you've been bumped down the list." Stiles smirked, looking up at Derek with those whiskey eyes. "BRB, heading to Memphis." Stiles laughed and moved into the rain. Derek moved after him and caught his arm, pulling Stiles into his arms. "Okay, yeah you're definitely my favourite mechanic." Derek laughed, pressing his forehead to Stiles'. "Ooh Derek, don't brood so close to me, I may swoon."

"I'll catch you." Derek smiled and Stiles laughed.

"Okay, now I will swoon." Stiles ran his hands up Derek's arms and clasped his hands together at the nape of Derek's neck. "So watcha say?" 

"It couldn't hurt." Derek smiled and Stiles pressed on Derek's neck until he took the hint and ducked down, lips pressing to Stiles. Stiles tasted like coffee and strawberries. His lips were soft as they moved against Derek's, one hand sneaking up into Derek's hair. Derek's hands ran across the small of Stiles' back, thumbs caressing the fabric of his button up shirt. Stiles moved away first. 

"If we don't stop. I won't, and I don't know about you Derek, but I really want to take you out to dinner." Stiles lips were red but his eyes were set and focused on Derek's.

"I'd really like that." Derek grinned and dropped his arms from around Stiles.

"So I'll pick you up, tomorrow at eight?" Stiles landed a friendly punch on Derek's shoulder.

"Great, Erm gimme a minute." Derek floundered for a pen for a few minutes before setting his eyes on a pen and a business card on the side. He scribbled his address on the back and underlined his number on the card. "That's my address."

"Derek, I'm a Federal Agent, I could have found out your address." Stiles took the card any way, twirling it around in between his fingers as he watched Derek.

"This is legal and not stalking." Derek smirked, pressing his lips to Stiles cheek. Stiles turned his head and they were kissing again until Stiles phone rang. 

"Stilinski?" There was murmuring on the other end of the phone and Stiles cursed. "Okay, I'll be right there."

"Another Body?" Derek winced, imagining Allison tonight. He made a note to shut up early and get a take-away.

"Another Cop. Retired, used to work with my dad. I've got to go." 

"Go. Fight them bad guys." Stiles smiled, weirdly before kissing Derek and walking out of the garage. 

"Eight." He shouted back. Derek smiled at the ground as he listened to Stiles walking away.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The body was staged. Propped up in scene Stiles vaguely remembers. He remembers playing cards with Wilbur, he was nice guy. This was a awful way for him to go. His throat was slit and his tongue was missing, cut clean off. His hands were wired to the ceiling and weakly holding his set. He was a puppet.. The uniform is too small around his middle, it's his from back in the day. If Stiles was normal he'd be disturbed. But this body just confirms what he thought.

The Cop Killer is targeting him. 

He'd guessed from the first three bodies. He always kept an eye when a new body was categorised as the 'Beacon Hills Butcher', but a few popped up that weren't his. All cops. All of them he knew. 

First, Hill. Then, Jerry Michaels and June Carriage. 

Stiles knew he had to come back, for good not just to hide his kills. Then Agent Argent had phoned. 

So here he was, inspecting a tongue-less body at eight in the evening. 

"What do you think Mr Stilinski?" Lydia Martin, the forensics on this case, came over to him. 

"Call me Stiles."

"What do you think Stiles?" She asked again. He pulled his rubber gloves higher and leant over the stump of the tongue. The wound was clean, but there was a ridge lining the centre.

"My greater instinct is saying knife, but that wouldn't work?" Stiles queried, "Unless it's been heated, that would explain the ridge." He referenced to the ridge that ran through the tongue stump and Lydia came closer. "He cut through this side, then left it to re-heat the blade then finished the cut." Stiles stepped back, and scanned through the rest of motel room. He looked through the drawers. He knew this motel, hell he'd basically grew up in this motel playing cards with Wilbur when Harry was with his mother. The Bible was kept in the second draw across in the Chest of drawers. It was gone.

"FIND THE BIBLE." Stiles shouted, falling to his hands and knees. 

"Why are we looking for the Bible?" Cooper asked, hands in his suit pockets. 

"I'll bet you ten bucks the tongue is in the Bible." 

Fifteen minutes later, still no bible.

"What we going to do, Stilinski? Put an APB out on a fucking Bible?" Cooper piped up again. Stiles rolled his eyes. Thank God for Harry's Rules otherwise Cooper would be a man. 

"No. No APB but we need to blast this case. Get it in the news. Papers. Tweet it if you have to. Our killer needs to know we've found this body." Stiles looked across to Allison, who nodded and fished out her phone. 

"Do you think this is him?" Lydia asked, capping the small blood sample she took.

"Him?" 

"The Beacon Hills Butcher?" Lydia asked, eyes pinned on the body.

"This isn't him." Stiles shook his head. "This guy is making a scene, he wants the attention. By the looks of it, he wants the Beacon Hills Butcher's attention." Stiles ran his fingers against the material of the gloves before looking to Lydia. "If you could send me the Toxicology Report and the photos. I'm going to head home, big date tommorow."

"Ooh, who?" Lydia asked, flicking the blood sample and slotting it into the rack. 

"Derek Hale." Stiles smiled, memory of their kiss fresh in his head. 

"Lucky Boy, he hasn't dated since the psycho who kidnapped his brother." Lydia wiggled her eyebrows and pushed him out the door before he could ask more questions.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will be updating less (I know need to update at all to say that) as it's Exam week and UGH
> 
> Should be back with a update on Friday ;) 
> 
> THERE WILL SOON BE A PLAYLIST TO GO WITH THIS!!!  
> WATCH THIS SPACE AND MY TUMBLR SPACE
> 
> Gildasbitch.tumblr.com ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Now I have finished the fic. I have decided it will be Multi-Chapter. The chapters will be short, but hopefully updated quicker and more than the other fics I'm procrastinating. 
> 
> Chapter Title: I Never Told You What I did for a Living by My Chemical Romance.
> 
> I only really realised how similar This Stiles is to Dexter once I re-read this... but it works... Beacon Hills Butcher- Bay Harbour Butcher.... 
> 
> tumblr me bitches ;)


End file.
